


Wit's Favor

by Aly_H



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dalish Elven Culture and Customs, Fade Spirits, Gen, Head canon heavy, Non-canonical magic, Rivaini Seers, The Fade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-09-07 04:59:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16847596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aly_H/pseuds/Aly_H
Summary: Doing a bit of ‘world building’ regarding the way that Haleir’s fortune telling works. Hal is one of those mages more sensitive to spirits (and therefore demons) than most mages. To protect himself from possession he learns a technique of spirit magic from a Rivaini Seer and so becomes partnered with a spirit (the way Faith looked out for Wynne prior to her death the first time but a bit more interactive). That spirit is Wit.





	Wit's Favor

The taste of the potion was still heavy on his tongue - the bitter mix of herbs and lyrium making him cringe when he paid too much attention to it. He wasn’t sleeping – but he wasn’t truly awake either. The half-way state brought him into the land of fog and shadows that made up the Beyond.

To find a guide – a spirit with whom he could keep counsel and seek advice from. The one whose answers his magic would channel while fortune telling now that he was stepping out from below his mentor’s protection.

There in the Fade an old woman watched him, amused, a glint in her eye as she leaned on her cane.

“Lost are we, young cub?”

A play off his name – _snow fox_ – he frowned a little at the spirit. But soon gave up the dour expression in favor of a smile, or a grin.

The image of the serious mage, the one with dusty tombs and the power of creation and destruction at their fingertips didn’t suit him. It never had.

That belonged to his twin.

“Can’t be lost – I made a promise,” he flashed a grin, “This is just a path I don’t recognize yet.”

The spirit snorted her laugh – amused by the joke. The irreverent way that the mage pretended to treat a promise that would shape who he would become in the years to come.

She had first found the youngster in his dreams many years ago now, a softer light in the shadow of the blazes of his siblings’ growing powers. She had watched with a sort of absent curiosity common to most of her ilk – Wisdom and Knowledge and all its forms:

The young cub had always been a step closer to the Fade than his kin, born with the mark of destiny – the promise of chance – that threatened to send both worlds rippling with the effects of his choices. Fortune’s hand might fail to fall upon him for all it hovered precariously over his head, but a life of peace and quiet was not one that the elf would be able to live.

The cub had always heard the Fade’s whispers clearly, and now he sought a way to master that gift, becoming a Seer.

“So, what do I call you?” the cub’s eyes were on her.

“How should I know what _you_ call me?” she arched her brows at him.

That got a laugh and the teen shrugged, “Most spirits have names don’t they? Like ‘Dreadfully Boring and Pointless Information’ and ‘Annoyance Felt When Little Sister Uses Your Shoes to Keep Worms’?”

She cackled, “Demons those – I think. I have not had a name in a very long time, all those who might call me by name sleep. I just simply _am_. Should you not be on your way, little cub?”

“Maybe, but we’re having a nice chat,” he shrugged, looking out to the shifting currents of sickly colored fog. “Though you’re right – I probably should hurry and find my guide. I’d like to wake up eventually, after all.”

Amused she watched as he plunged into the fog away from her and released the form that she had held. Staying in one shape was more of a convenience for the mages who sought out spirits – they rarely took on true forms.

Sometime later, hissing as he twisted his arm for examination of the slash down his arm – Terror had not proved to be a gracious host – the youth stumbled back to their clearing.

“You changed shape,” he commented – recognizing the spirit behind the form of the _hahren_ in the elven robes that stood before him. Golden eyes swept over the form of the man before he sighed. “Well, nice to see you again but off I go.”

“Are you certain you know where to look for what you seek?” he mused to the mage.

“Probably not!” he grinned and plunged right back to the mists.

The spirit sighed and shook his head – once more returning to their more nebulous state.

The third time the elf found them they assumed the shape of a gigantic owl and spoke only in rhyme. The fourth time they mirrored his shape – ‘I am handsome, even with that scar, aren’t I?’

It was the fifth time that the young elf was drawn to them that he finally sat down on the ground before the spirit, looking worn out. It had been hours in the waking realms since he had entered the Fade to complete the task.

“…” in silence he frowned, taking the time to sort his thoughts.

This time she had taken the form of a young girl, and so she sat cross-legged across from him, braiding a chain of daisies together.

“None of the others I’ve met feel like a friend – and not all of them have been so bad,” he admitted, “I’m starting to think that that’s what Ma’am meant when she said that I’d know my guide when I met them.”

“This finally occurred to you?” she teased.

“I mean I thought _maybe_ that time with the owl, but I don’t get why a wisdom spirit would be interested in partnering with me,” he admitted with a shrug. “So…what _should_ I call you?”

“Dunno,” she hummed, “What do you think I should be?”

“…not Wisdom – you’ve got too many sharp edges. But you’re something like that…” he considered. “I think I’ll call you…’Wit’.”

“Wit?” she giggled. “I like that.”

“Partners then, Wit?”

“Only so long it’s not boring.”


End file.
